Churn And Churn Again
by Elf Eye
Summary: In a surprising manner, Arwen makes a contribution during the War of the Rings.


**Folks, this is a one-shot that looks at what Arwen was doing during the final days of the Third Age. Don't worry: I haven't abandoned Legolas! I am still working on both "Number Nine" and "Things Fall Apart," and I will shortly be sending chapters to _Dragonfly_, the Beta Reader for the Nameless One series.**

**Churn and Churn Again**

Only the day before, Elladan and Elrohir had ridden away to join their foster-brother Aragorn in the fight against the Dark Lord Sauron. Only the day before, yet their sister Arwen was already chafing.

"I do not understand why I could not ride out alongside my brothers," she complained to her father. "I am skilled at both riding and shooting. Aye, and I have some skill with the blade, more so than some of those who were permitted to venture forth."

Elrond fought to keep his eyebrows under control. He and his daughter were having this conversation for the third time that day.

"Arwen, as I have said before, it is not fitting that you do so."

"Ada, there is no law amongst our people that the ellith may not fight. It is custom only that causes them to remain at home."

"But mayhap it is a good custom."

"How could a custom be a good one if it is not based upon reason?"

"Aye, but this custom is not one without purpose."

"Ada, I am the equal of any Man for strength."

"If I concede that—and I do not!—I still may ask whether you are the equal of any Orc."

"I defy any Orc to match me riding or shooting."

"True. But what if an Orc should confront you hand-to-hand? Would you be able to match the strength of his blows?"

"I should fight him with my wits. I would elude his blows."

Elrond shook his head.

"It is not always possible to do so. What if an Orc should lay hands upon you? Would you be able to break free?"

"The same question could be asked of many of the ellyn," Arwen retorted.

"True, and thus it is that I send forth the younger and smaller of the ellyn only when the need is great and I have no other alternative."

"Yet you do send them out—and there are some of them whom I exceed in strength and skill. And you must admit that the need is great!"

"I do not deny either of those statements, but there is another matter to consider. Arwen, I will speak plainly. The loss of an ellon is a great tragedy. The loss of an elleth, however, is an even greater tragedy. An ellon can fight; an elleth can fight as well, but she can do something else that no ellon can, something vital for the continuance of our people."

"And what is that?"

"She can bring forth the next generation. Our numbers dwindle, Arwen, and it is the ellith who must bear the burden of arresting our decline. Their contribution to our survival has ever been greater than that of the male. Both male and female come together in the coupling, but only the female can carry the child."

"But, Ada, amongst Men, some tribes permit their womenfolk to fight. Do they not fear lest there be no one left to bear the next generation?"

"It is true that some human females take up weapons, but more commonly they do not. Moreover, Arwen, you must concede that humans breed like rabbits. Pardon the crudeness of my speech, but if humans did not fall prey to disease and accidents, all of Arda would soon be overrun by them. Only Orcs, who breed like cockroaches, are more prolific! It is the fecundity of Men and Orc that allow both to send the female of the species into battle."

"The Orcs send their females into battle? I never knew that."

"No, of course not, because it is impossible to tell the female Orc from the male. Some say that of Dwarves, but the story is naught but a folktale. Of the Orcs, however, the assertion is true. Now, then, Arwen, do you wish to be like unto a female Orc, following the men-folk into battle?"

"I do not wish to be like a she-Orc," replied Arwen. "But," she added stubbornly, "I do wish to follow my brothers into battle."

Elrond allowed his eyebrows to shoot up—he was weary with the effort of holding them in place.

"Arwen, I see that between us there will be no meeting of minds concerning this matter. I shall have to pull rank, although I had no wish to do so. I am both your father and the Lord of Imladris. As long as I am in charge, you will not ride out. That is the end of the discussion, and I desire that you should not bring up the topic again, for further speech is fruitless."

Arwen inclined her head in acknowledgment of the words of her lord and father.

"Very well, Ada. As long as you are in charge, I shall obey you in this matter."

Elrond was suspicious of her quick compliance.

"I will also add that I expect you to obey anyone whom I deputize in my place if for a spell I should be absent or otherwise unable to exercise command."

Again Arwen inclined her head. She replied with great formality.

"Yes, my Lord and my Father. I shall be obedient to anyone designated to serve in your place until such time as his commission shall be ended."

Elrond had an uneasy feeling that there was a chink somewhere in the pledges that Arwen had proffered, but he couldn't quite put his finger on wherein lay the flaw. Before he could say anything, however, Arwen smiled sweetly at him—at least, he _thought_ sweetly—and swept from the room, leaving Elrond with the disconcerting feeling that he had been 'had', although he knew not how.

Elrond had very few days in which to worry over the matter, however, for Imladris was soon hard pressed on three sides. Led by Halbarad, Aragorn's Dúnedain kinsman had ridden off with Elladan and Elrohir. This left the northern border of Imladris undefended, for it had been the presence of Rangers in the Northern Waste that had kept lawless Men from creeping into that place. Now, with the Rangers gone, ruffians swarmed to that land and used it as a base from which to launch raids. Thus Berenmaethor and his scouts were sent north to reinforce that border. They found the task to be a difficult one, for, in spite of all their efforts, both the number and boldness of the renegades seemed to grow daily. Elrond was on the verge of sending Glorfindel to reinforce the northern border when word arrived that the southern border was also under attack, assailed by Dunlendings in the employ and under the command of Haradrim who had marched up through Dunland and thence invaded Eregion. Elrond had no choice but to send Glorfindel and his warriors south instead of north. Almost simultaneously, Orcs crept down from the Misty Mountains to attack Imladris' eastern border. These foes were the most determined of the three, and Elrond himself led a force to repel the orcish invaders. The western borders of Imladris were not left undefended, but the force that could be spared to patrol it was not overlarge. Attacks having fallen upon three borders, Elrond could only hope that no one was left to mount an organized assault upon the northern frontier and that a small force of defenders would thus suffice.

For several days after Elrond's departure, it could indeed be said that it was all quiet on the western front. One day, however, a scout, his garments tattered and bloody, galloped up to the Hall. Leaping from his steed even before it had come to a halt, the scout raced within, making for the library, where Erestor, who had been left in command in Elrond's absence, was occupied in tallying the food stores and determining whether rationing would be necessary until such time as peace was restored. Assisting him was Arwen,

"My Lord, my Lady," exclaimed the scout as he burst into the room without benefit of knocking. "A force has come out of the west. Men. Perhaps some of those that of late have been observed gathering in Bree-land and thereabouts. They may have been emboldened by the news that most of our warriors are absent. It is a very large force, well-armed and well-led. Some Haradrim have been spotted amongst them, and mayhap it is those folk, practiced mercenaries as they are, that are in command. Even as I speak, the humans are forcing back our line, and many wounded Elves are retreating, some scarcely a league behind me. I do not believe that we can hold the Men off much longer. And if we cannot, nothing stands between them and Imladris save the River Bruinen!"

"The River Bruinen hereabouts will rise up against them if they try to cross," said Arwen thoughtfully, "but if they are well-led, they may know to go aside and cross to the north or south of the usual ford, where our power does not hold sway."

"We must send for reinforcements at once," declared Erestor.

"What reinforcements?" said Arwen quietly.

Erestor stared at her. He did not know how to answer.

Arwen continued.

"My brothers have ridden to the south to fight at the side of Aragorn. My father defends our western border against the Orcs of the Misty Mountains. Glorfindel patrols the southern borders, repelling those Haradrim who have come up through Dunland. Berenmaethor has taken his warriors to the Northern Waste to beat back the ruffians who pour forth now that they no longer must fear the Dúnedain, who have departed that place to fight with their kinsman before the gates of Minas Tirith. Erestor, all of these forces are hard pressed. We cannot ask their commanders to spare warriors to defend against this new threat."

"But, my Lady, as you have seen, the force we sent out was not sufficient."

"True, and now we must be sure to send out one that is."

"We sent out all the warriors who were to hand. There are no others, no, not unless we send to the north, the south, or the west for aid, and this you say we cannot do."

"We sent out all the warriors, but we did not send out all who could fight."

"Lady Arwen, I shall gladly ride forth, for, although the governance of Imladris has been left in my hands, I would not scruple to delegate it to you. But even though I will ride forth, the number of those who bear arms will go up only by one. That will not be enough!"

"I believe I can find some others," Arwen said calmly. "Make ready to ride, you and all the warriors not too badly injured. If it be your will, I hereby do take upon me the governance of Imladris, and I shall see that the force is so enlarged that it will suffice to beat back these marauders."

"It is my will, Lady Arwen. I resign my office to you; henceforth, and until the return of Lord Elrond, you are the governor of the folk of this land."

Arwen inclined her head gravely, and the two left the chamber on their respective errands.

A few hours later, Erestor and all the warriors able-bodied enough to return to battle were waiting in front of the Hall. Erestor gazed about anxiously, wondering who it was that Arwen would recruit to augment their weakened forces. "She probably means to put swords into the hands of the Cook and his skivvies," he said to himself. "Aye, and the Gardener as well. As the Cook is skilled with knives and the Gardener with the scythe, I suppose there will be some sense in that."

He heard the sound of hoof beats, and around the corner cantered Arwen. Riding behind her was a large company of Elves. Erestor's surmise about the Cook and the Gardener had been correct, and those personages were accompanied by other Elves skilled in the various crafts—Smiths and Carpenters, Coopers and Masons—all of them strong and accustomed to wielding tools, all of them wearing swords girt on by their sides. Erestor was impressed at how many doughty Elves Arwen had managed to turn out.

Riding alongside the crafts folk were many ellith, each of whom bore behind her an elfling. Erestor assumed that the females and the young ones meant to briefly ride by the side of their kinsfolk who were going into battle. Suddenly, however, he realized that the ellith, like the ellyn, had girt on swords. He was aghast. Urging his horse on, he galloped up to Arwen—and saw that she, too, bore a sword.

"Arwen! Tell me that you are not riding out!"

"I am," said Arwen serenely.

"And these ellith? Do they ride out as well?"

"They do."

"I forbid it!"

"You have no power to forbid it."

"I wish to reassume my post as commander in the absence of Elrond," Erestor said hastily.

"Since I am in charge," Arwen replied cheerfully, "I would have to be the one to reappoint you—and I don't choose to."

Chagrined, Erestor cast about for an argument to sway her.

"They will be safer here, Arwen."

"Not so, Erestor. You and I both know that we leave no warriors to defend them should their homes come under attack. They are safer with us than not."

"But if they ride out, who will look after the wounded and the babes?"

"Those who are very young or who cannot ride I have sent into hiding in secret places in the forest, accompanied by such ellith as are skilled in healing and nursing. They will be at least as safe there as they would be if they awaited the approach of our foes within Imladris. Nay, more so, for they will not be trapped within the valley, as would happen if our foes did succeed in sweeping past our defenses and laying siege to the dell. At least this way they will have an opportunity to flee and to try to reach safety at Mithlond, there to take ship for the West. But, Erestor, if your warriors are assisted by my force, I deem that we are like to beat off our foes."

Erestor could not deny that the ellyn alone had little hope of repelling the invaders, but his heart still rebelled at the thought of ellith riding into battle. Now, even though he was addressing the daughter of Elrond, he did not hesitate to express his objections with great bluntness. The chronicler, more tactful than Erestor in this matter, has omitted the colorful observations to which he gave vent, so this writer must necessarily remain silent on that score.

"Say not," Arwen replied at last to his protests, "that they are riding _into_ battle but that they are riding _to_ battle."

Erestor opined that there was no difference between 'into' and 'to'.

"For shame," Arwen chided him. "Are you not the one who has always insisted that any small turn of phrase has meaning? And here you would ignore your own wisdom!"

Erestor changed tack.

"Those elflings who are horsed with the ellith, surely you do not intend for _them_ to ride into—to—battle. They are too little to be of use. Send them after the wounded and the babes!"

"All our elflings, male and female, have some skill with the bow," Arwen replied.

"But the tiniest novices, at least send them away. Their bows are scarcely more than toys!"

"A bee is tiny," observed Arwen, "but its sting is painful. A farmer swarmed by bees is hard put to pay attention to the weeds he would pull, and a warrior struck by many tiny arrows will be hard put to fight a larger foe. It may be that it is the novices who will turn the tide of battle. But enough talk; we waste time that would be better spent vanquishing our foes."

Erestor saw that there was no dissuading Arwen, and the Elves—ellyn, ellith, and elfling—moved out, riding toward the west. As they rode, Erestor from time to time studied the ellith. They rode well, as befit Fair Folk—Erestor could not help but feel pride at the thought—and some carried bow as well as sword. Erestor knew that all Elves, male and female, were proficient with the bow, for even those not trained as warriors pursued archery for pleasure. 'Perhaps', he thought grudgingly, 'perhaps Arwen is right. Well-led, the ellith might be the salvation of Imladris. If they are not, be sure Elrond will have no home to return to!'

As he continued to study the ellith, something else he noticed, something that puzzled him exceedingly. Tied to the horses of some of the ellith were the dashers that were used to churn butter. Other ellith carried with them the paddles with which they beat the laundry on washing day, and yet others had brought with them the handles of their brooms. What could they mean by doing so? Surely they didn't plan to turn aside to make butter, wash clothes, and sweep the forest floor! But if that is not what they intended to do, then why carry those accouterments? They were surrounded by wood aplenty; they couldn't have troubled to carry the implements for use as firewood!

At last Erestor's curiosity grew too great for him to bear. He urged his horse onward to catch up with Arwen, who rode at the head of the column.

"Arwen," he said, getting to straight to the point, "why have the ellith brought with them such domestic tools as broomsticks and dashers?"

"Do you doubt the usefulness of such implements, Erestor?"

"On a battlefield, yes."

"Ah, but they shall not be used _on_ a battlefield, Erestor," replied Arwen, smiling mysteriously. "Nevertheless, they shall be used to great effect!"

Erestor was casting about for a suitable reply to this enigmatic pronouncement when the conversation was brought to an end by a scout who rode back to tell them that they were nearing their foes, who had stopped to bivouac in a clearing.

"Are they within earshot?" queried Arwen.

"If we remain quiet, no, my Lady."

"How if we do not remain quiet?"

The scout looked puzzled.

"We are within shouting distance, my Lady, and if we draw nearer they may hear our horses."

"Excellent," enthused Arwen. She turned to her ellith and elflings and ordered that they make ready. They dismounted, the elflings clutching their bows, and the ellith undid the knots that held the dashers and the paddles and the broom handles to their saddles. The elflings divided into two groups, one of which stood to either side of the ellith. To Erestor's bewilderment, the elflings laid down their bows and from their packs drew forth pots and ladles. As for the ellyn, Arwen ordered them to stand behind the ellith, a command that mystified Erestor.

"My pardon, Arwen," he said, "but shouldn't the ellyn take the forward position?"

"So they shall," replied Arwen, "but not yet."

When all was in readiness, the company moved forward silently until only a fringe of trees separated them from their foes. They halted. All eyes were on Arwen. Suddenly she gave a hand signal, and the ellith began to ululate at the top of their lungs and to pound rhythmically upon the earth with their dashers and paddles and broomsticks. Erestor had never heard anything like the overwhelming sound that rolled forth—high-pitched howls mingled with the booming vibrations of hundreds of chunks of wood hitting the ground simultaneously. Erestor knew that their opponents could not see the source of this noise, and he could only imagine what the humans must be thinking. At a second signal from Arwen, the elflings joined in, striking ladles upon pots in time to the pounding of the ellith. Erestor covered his ears with his hands. Then Arwen gave another signal, and all fell silent. Erestor was sure that the humans were now as unnerved by the silence as they had been unnerved by the din. As if to confirm his supposition, alarmed shouts and the scurrying of feet could be heard on the other side of the trees.

Quietly, the elflings laid down their pots and ladles, took up their bows, and slipped away to either side of the humans' encampment, each ascending a tree and waiting, arrows nocked. The ellith, too, slipped away, circling around the camp and taking up positions on the far side. Now it was that the ellyn move forward to take over the ellith's former position. Suddenly Erestor understood why Arwen had said that she was leading the elflings and ellith "to" but not "into" battle. If any hand-to-hand fighting were to take place, it would most likely be between the Men and the ellyn. The elflings and the ellith would harry their foes from above and from the sides and the rear.

By now the Men had recovered enough to launch a counterattack. Arrows began to smack into the bushes and trees around the Elves.

"You are in command of the ellyn," Arwen said to Erestor, and he ordered that his warriors reply to the humans. A volley arose from the ranks of the Elves, which was answered with more arrows from the Men. It was time for Arwen's 'troops' to make their next move. Suddenly, arrows rained upon the Men from either side. These were peculiar missiles, however, for they were smaller than the Men would have expected. Oddly, this caused greater panic rather than less, for in their minds the Men envisioned a more fearsome foe than the one they actually faced.

"Darts!" shrieked some of the Men. "Poison darts!"

"Pygmy Elves!" howled other Men as they plucked the painful missiles from their bottoms and limbs. "A race of Pygmy Elves descends upon us! They will feast upon our flesh!"

Their captains strode among them, laboring to restore order, but then another horror was unleashed upon the Men. The ellith to the rear of the encampment again began to ululate and pound their dashers and paddles and broomsticks upon the earth. Now the Men were totally unnerved. In spite of all that their captains could do, the Men threw down their weapons, for they believed themselves to be trapped between two—no, three—terrible forces. Cowering, they cried out for mercy.

Although the Men had surrendered, the elflings and the ellith, all save Arwen, stayed hidden. Erestor raised his voice and spoke loudly.

"Only our escort need accompany us, my Lady. The remainder of our forces may remain in position."

With that, Arwen, Erestor, and all of the ellyn entered the clearing. Of course, the Men assumed that the male Elves they saw before them were but a small part of a larger force of warriors. You may be sure that Erestor and Arwen had no intention of disabusing them of that notion! Instead, their 'escort' set about collected the weapons of their foes, and all were bound. The Men of that region the Elves bound by the wrists alone, but the Southrons they bound both hand and foot. When they had secured their prisoners, they pulled one Man, who looked to be the oldest, to his feet and led him before Arwen.

"I am the daughter of Elrond, Lord of Imladris," she proclaimed haughtily. This was not her usual manner of speaking, but the Man could no know that, and so it had the desired effect.

"In his absence," continued Arwen in the same grand vein, "I am the ruler of the forces that have remained to safeguard Imladris. Over you I have power of judgment, for you have attacked my folk when you had no reason to do so. For that reason, your lives are forfeit."

The Man decided that groveling might be in order and threw himself into it heart and soul. He cast himself upon the dust and wailed piteously, begging the gracious elven lady to spare his life and those of his fellows.

Arwen pretended coldness in her reply.

"I do not see why I should give you back your lives."

"We will pay you for them," pleaded the Man.

"I hardly think you are capable of doing so," scoffed Arwen. "Judging from your garb, you are not over-rich. Did the Haradrim not pay you fairly for your services?"

This observation provoked some grumbling in the ranks of the would-be ruffians. The Haradrim had not been generous. Indeed, most of the Men had fought out of fear of the Southrons rather than out of hope of gain.

"I suppose," continued Arwen, "that we shall have to take you into our employ if you are to have the wherewithal to ransom your lives. See that a company of your Men patrols the region between the Last Bridge and the border of Bree-land. For this, each Man will receive one silver coin each month and rations of wheat, barley, meat, oil, and salt. It would have been two silver coins, but the second coin is forfeit in requital of your unjust and unprovoked attack upon my people."

Now, in point of fact, one silver coin was more than enough for a month's labor as a scout, and both Arwen and the Man knew it. The Man was abashed at her mercy and lowered his eyes in shame.

To the Haradrim, however, Arwen showed no such mercy. It was at least arguable that the Men in the employ of the Haradrim had only been trying to preserve their lives and the lives of their families. The Southrons, on the other hand, had not been under duress when they traveled for hundreds of miles to wage war upon folk who had never done them any harm. Arwen therefore ordered that the surviving Southrons be executed, and she forbade their erstwhile servants from departing until the executions had taken place. There was a message here, and they knew it. Chastened by what they had witnessed, the Men were at last unbound and allowed to return to their homes, carrying their dead and wounded with them.

A fortnight after this encounter, Elrond rode back into Imladris, his forces having at last beaten back the Orcs from the Misty Mountains. He was tired and dirty, his garments streaked with the black blood of his foes. Gratefully he looked about him at the beautiful homes that seemed to arise from the soil as naturally as trees. As he drew up at the door to the Hall, however, he was surprised to see the usual Door Warden absent, his place taken by an elleth who bore a sword.

"Where is the Door Warden?" he asked.

"You are looking at the Door Warden, my Lord," replied the elleth, the ghost of a smile wisping across her face.

"The Door Warden?"

"Aye, my Lord. This is a door, and I am its guardian. Therefore, I am the Door Warden."

"Oh, well, if you put it _that_ way," replied Elrond dryly. Just then he heard hoof beats and turned to look behind him. A party of mounted ellith was drawing near. As the ellith rode closer, he saw that they, like the Door Warden, bore swords. Aye, and they carried shields as well. The lead rider was also equipped with bow. 'They sit their horses well', Elrond thought to himself, both puzzled and impressed.

"Mae govannen," called the foremost rider. "We have just returned from patrol and are happy to report that there are no longer signs of foes on the western border of our land."

Elrond gaped. The voice was Arwen's. Suddenly he caught the import of her words.

"You say there are 'no longer' signs of foes. There has been an attack?"

"Yes, Ada, but we succeeded in unmanning the attackers, in a manner of speaking."

"Nothing like a female for unmanning a man," Elrond muttered.

"Ada?"

"Never mind. Carry on, my daughter."

Arwen and her companions cantered off, making for the stables. Elrond watched them go and shook his head.

"So much for leaving Erestor in command," he muttered.

Then he turned and entered the Hall.

Behind him, the Door Warden grinned.

A little while later, after washing and changing into clean garments, Elrond proceeded to the library. There he found Glorfindel, back from the border with Dunland and amusing himself with a book. Two younger Elves, Baramagor and Celaithand, were similarly employed. There, too, was Erestor, busy composing an entry in a chronicle. Elrond could guess at its topic. He went to sit at Erestor's elbow.

"So, my friend," Elrond began, "did anything exciting occur in my absence?"

"Curious that you should ask," replied Erestor at his disingenuous best. "We were in fact attacked by a force of ruffians who hailed from the west."

Elrond raised one eyebrow slightly.

"Really?"

"Fortunately," continued Erestor, "driving back this force proved to be child's play, as it were."

"Child's play?"

"Yes, child's play. Elrond, has it ever occurred to you that in military matters sometimes cleverness is more important than brute force?"

"Why, yes, the thought has often crossed my mind."

"It has? I _am_ glad."

Elrond raised a second eyebrow.

"A good commander," Erestor continued, "would surely take advantage of the fact that cleverness trumps strength."

"Now he is going to lose his eyebrows altogether," Baramagor whispered to Celaithand.

"Oh, yes! There they go!" his friend chortled in reply. "Likely he'll have to spend hours searching his scalp for them." Glorfindel turned and fixed a fierce eye upon the two young Elves, and they lowered their gazes and fell respectfully silent.

Elrond, however, allowed a slight smile to quirk the corners of his mouth.

"Yes," he replied, "a good commander would take advantage of each and every opportunity that presented itself to him, even if he should be led to take steps that some would consider unorthodox."

"Ah, I am glad to know that you agree. No, doubt, then, you will be delighted to hear of Arwen's clever scheme, for it allowed us to drive back our foes at very little cost to ourselves. It all came about because, since we had been attacked, I was forced to venture forth to confront our foes. Of course, I had to appoint someone in my place."

"Of course."

"I thought to myself, 'Who better to appoint than the daughter of Elrond, Lord of Imladris? She inherits his wisdom, his cleverness, his shrewdness, his—'"

"I do believe I see where you are going with this," interrupted Elrond. "I gather that she was an appropriate choice?"

"Eminently appropriate," averred Erestor. "Once she took command, she set all her thought to reinforcing the western border, for we were, as you know, quite short of warriors."

"And no doubt Arwen was quite inventive in her solution to the problem."

"Why, yes, she was!"

"I would imagine that the ellith were part of her solution—is that not so?"

Erestor professed astonishment at Elrond's perspicuity.

"However," Erestor added, "I don't know why I should be surprised at your divining her solution. After all, she is your daughter, and must have inherited at least some of her perceptiveness from you!"

"Thank you," Elrond said dryly. "However, I have already encountered Arwen in military garb, so it needed no great insight on my part to guess at what may have happened. Pray go on with your story."

Erestor required no further encouragement. With immense enjoyment, he told the tale in full, leaving out nothing, not even the details of how Arwen had tricked him into placing her in charge. Listening, Elrond shared his pleasure. How could he fail to feel pride in his daughter and joy at what she had accomplished? Without her, it is likely that he and all the others would have returned to a realm reduced to ashes.

At last the tale was told. Elrond thanked Erestor heartily and assured him that he approved of all that had transpired. Then he arose and took his leave, meaning to retire for the night. At the door, however, he turned. He had one more question.

"By the way, Erestor, what has happened to the Door Warden?"

"The Door Warden? She was at her post shortly before you arrived."

"I don't mean _that_ Door Warden; I mean—the other one."

"Oh, of course: the ellon. He was injured in the battle—do not fear! his wounds were light—and so for a time the elleth has replaced him. Although," Erestor added thoughtfully, "she is such a good Door Warden that perhaps she ought to remain in that position. She mixes vigilance with politeness in perfect proportion. Moreover, by all accounts she is unhappy in her usual role as assistant to the Mistress of the Wardrobe."

"But what will be the ellon's duties if she takes on his responsibilities?"

"Actually, Elrond, when not on duty he has been spending his spare time with the Weavers. He sketched out for me some designs that had occurred to him—really elegant patterns, I must say. He has some idea that he would like to go into that line of work."

"That line of work?"

"Yes, the design of cloth wares—wall hangings, rugs, linens, that sort of thing. He says that by doing so he will be able to give voice to his inner Elf, or something of that sort."

Now Elrond really was losing his eyebrows.

"So I have been thinking," continued Erestor, "that—"

"No!" exclaimed Elrond. "That is altogether too, too, too—new age!"

"But, Elrond, it _is _a new age. Isn't that supposed to be the point: end of the Third Age, beginning of the Fourth."

"No!" repeated Elrond, shaking his head vehemently.

Still shaking his head, the Lord of Imladris retreated to his private chamber. And so, as the War of the Ring drew to a close, life settled back to normal in Imladris. Curiously, though, from this time onward Imladris became renowned for the quality of its textiles. Hitherto it had been eclipsed in that arena by Lothlórien, whose elven weavers were famed throughout Middle-earth. Elrond suspected that the Door Warden had something to do with Imladris' sudden ascendancy in the crafting of cloth, but he decided it would be better not to investigate what the ellon did when not on duty. Whenever he came upon a new wall-hanging, he was always heard to mutter, "don't ask, don't tell."

As for Arwen, she never again rode out to battle. The chroniclers, however, often remarked upon the fact that Queen Arwen Evenstar always sat at the right hand of King Elessar whenever he called a council to discuss matters pertaining to defense. Aye, and in those councils she spoke up frequently and with confidence. Nor were her words ever discounted, either by the King or his other councilors. Some say that as a result she was in large part responsible for the peace that reigned throughout the King's lifetime. The King of the combined realms of Arnor and Gondor would not have hesitated to lead his Men into battle, but his Queen was forever devising stratagems that made it unnecessary to do so. Many lives were thus spared, and a phrase that she uttered at one council became a byword in both Arnor and Gondor: "The best battle is the one never fought." Long was she honored for those words, even when none remained in Middle-earth who remembered what the Elves came to call the Battle of the Broomsticks—an encounter wherein an army of Men was routed by dashers and paddles and, yes, broom handles.


End file.
